Thanksgiving For the Soul(mate)
by magical-mystery-girl
Summary: While out trying to recover the last available boxes of Stuffing for the Avengers Thanksgiving feast (thanks Barton), Darcy runs into a surprising face. Naturally she can't just leave him in the cold, alone, on Thanksgiving now can she?
1. Chapter 1: Darcy Meets Soulmate

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers or anyone or anything in the MCU. If I did, the Civil War that is coming up probably wouldn't be happening. The feels guys, the feels!**

 **A/N: Okay, so I was thinking to myself, I want to write a Thanksgiving story, I am also in love with the concept of soulmates (particularly amusewithaview's version, seriously, go check her out on Archive of Our Own, her ideas are AWESOME!) For those of you new to the premise, basically the first words you say to your soulmate are written somewhere on their body in your handwriting. In my headcannon the style and shading of the writing also indicates personality traits of your soulmate. Anyway, being as in love with the Bucky/Darcy ship as I am, and loving me a good Steve & Bucky reunion, I threw it all together and got this. This is the first chapter in a three part story, each part will be told with a different PoV, staring first with Darcy. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter One: Darcy Meets Soulmate**

 **-.-.-.-**

"You know, for once I'd like to be able to say that I live with grown adults," Darcy muttered, "Is it really so hard to go out and buy everything on a list? _I_ remembered that stuffing and all things in it are a necessity for a happy Thanksgiving feast, _I_ remembered to write it down on a list, _I_ remembered to send someone to _buy_ _all the things_. But did bird brain remember? No!" she stomped her way down the grocery store aisle and gave a sigh of relief when she spotted four boxes of stuffing on the shelf.

Snatching them off the shelf—sorry to whoever comes after her searching for these exact four boxes of stuffing but she'd been to _seven_ stores looking for these, so she'd _earned_ them—she dropped them into her basket and spun on her heel to brave the long checkout lines, "Sorry Darcy, I forgot Darcy, the world needed saving Darcy! Why don't _you_ go get it Darcy?" she grumbled to herself, "One of these days Barton," she narrowed her eyes at a bar of Dove chocolate, "Avenger emergencies won't be able to get you out of trouble," she'd earned that chocolate too, she decided as it found its way into her basket.

Twenty minutes, three shrieking children, one argumentative old man, and several frazzled adults later it was finally Darcy's turn, "Find everything you were looking for?" the woman behind the register asked dully, not even looking up as she began scanning Darcy's items.

"Finally," Darcy answered with equal dullness. Hey, if the woman wasn't going to bother to fake it, she wasn't going pretend to put in the effort either. The woman announced her total, Darcy swiped her card (yeah Stark, this one's on you; she does _not_ get paid enough for this crap)and offered the woman a bland, "Happy Thanksgiving," all the while thanking her lucky stars that it wasn't her sorry behind that was working on the holiday. She snatched her bag of stuffing, searched out her chocolate bar, and exited the store while biting vigorously into the chocolate.

She walked a few feet before jerking her phone out of her pocket, "I got the goods Hap," she stated once her ride picked up.

"On my way Midget," Happy replied, "It might take a few minutes though, traffic is –Watch where you're going Moron!" the sound of a horn was heard and some more muffled swearing, "Let's just say all the crazies are out of the asylum today."

Darcy rolled her eyes and nodded her head, stomping her feet in an attempt to warm them up a little in the wintery air, "No prob," she muttered, "Totally just how my day was going. Take your time."

"You're a peach," Happy returned, clearly unaware or immune to her sarcasm.

She said nothing else and simply hung up; he'd call her when he was close enough. Tugging her coat sleeves over her hands she glanced around at the people rushing by. Having grown up in a rural city, the constant motion of New York was fascinating to her. People always seemed to have places to be and no time to stop and take the world in; granted the world at present involved grey skies, cold wind, dirty sidewalks and old beat up and graffitied buildings, but still, no one here ever bothered to look up.

Darcy sighed and momentarily wished she'd remembered to bring some headphones on this little party/excursion/adventure thing (it was really a rescue mission, but Avengering trumps food runs apparently). She'd just shifted her purse to get a better grip on it when a man appeared at her side and grabbed her arm to pull her into a nearby alley way.

" **Dude, no way**!" she exclaimed, startled, " **Trust me, you** _ **really**_ **want to think twice about mugging me right now! I've had a craptastic day already so don't think I won't pull my taser out and tase you in the face if you don't let me go right now bucko!** " she hissed twisting and jerking with rising panic.

The man tugged and spun her until her back crashed into the wall of the dirty alley. It was only then that she took in the long dirty hair, the scruffy face and _gorgeous_ eyes (not something most people would notice or think mid-mugging but she wasn't most people, she was besties with the Black Widow). His hands were gripping her shoulders to keep her in place but, and she realized this with some surprise, he wasn't trying to hurt her, or even restrain her should she truly decide to run from him.

His eyes met hers and with a gravelly voice that sounded as if it hadn't been used in a while, he spoke, " **I'm not going to hurt you, I just need your help. I…I'm ready to come in. I don't want to be…I don't want to hide anymore."**

Darcy stared. She blinked and then stared some more, "Those are my words," she squeaked, "Those are _my words_! How do you know my words?" her eyes widened, "Dude, did I say your words?" she frantically tried to remember what she'd said to him.

The man stared back at her with wide eyes, "You're…" he trailed off, and stared some more, his eyes taking in what must have been every feature of her face with an intensity that caused her to shiver, "You're my soulmate?" he questioned a moment later.

"Are my first words to you written on your skin somewhere?" she replied, her eyes scanning over his body for any visible proof that they were. It was then that she realized he had on nothing but a long sleeve black t-shirt, a pair of jeans and shoes that looked like they'd seen better days and were likely two sizes too small, "Dude, aren't you freezing?" she exclaimed, she dropped the bag of stuffing (yes she'd managed to keep a hold of it in the struggle, she'd been all over the city looking for those boxes, she wasn't dropping them just because someone got a little handsy!)and grabbed onto the man's arms and rubbed up and down to try and create some warmth inducing friction.

Her hands slowed as she realized just how firm the muscles under her hands were and her eyes dropped to stare (what, she was a woman who was comfortable and self aware enough to recognize that she had a thing for men with strong arms…weird brotherly affection for Barton and Thor aside), "Don't you have a jacket or something?" she glanced around, half expecting to find a shopping cart nearby full of homeless people stuff, "It's thirty one degrees outside man, you can't be warm!"

The man's eyes softened with some affectionate emotion and his right hand moved to brush against her long hair, "I've survived worse Doll," he murmured. He lowered his hand down to the hem of his shirt and lifted it up, "I think these were your words?" he indicated.

Darcy stared at him for a moment before being unable to resist the pull to look and dropping her eyes. Sure enough, right there, stretching from hip to hip and curving underneath his bellybutton (and yummy abs) were her words to him, written in her handwriting. Without thinking her fingers reached out and lightly stroked over the words, causing the man to inhale sharply at the contact.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, jerking her hand back and attempting to withdraw from him as much as possible with the wall still behind her and him blocking off her front, "Sorry, I don't know—"

His right hand caught hers, and she was comforted a little to see the slight amused smirk on his lip, "You can touch me all you like Doll," he told her, "Just maybe you should wait until we've gotten to know each other a little bit better," there was an accent to his voice that tugged vaguely at her memory. She tried to remember where she heard it before but her thoughts were too scrambled, "You got a name Pretty Girl?"

"Darcy," she told him thoughtlessly, "Darcy Marie Lewis," she shifted until she could raise her right hand to tug the sleeve of her left arm up to reveal her wrist and the three lines of words that wrapped around it in thick, dark, spiky writing, "These are your words," she showed him.

His unnaturally warm hand caught her arm and he turned it over so he could see the underside of her wrist. His thumb brushed over her pulse point and she was only kind of embarrassed that he could probably feel the way her heart sped up at the intimate contact. His eyes lifted to meet hers and suddenly she knew exactly where she'd heard that accent before; it was the same accent Steve would get when he was embarrassed or completely comfortable and relaxed.

And she knew his face, she realized as her eyes widened with recognition, "You're Bucky Barnes," she breathed.

His eyes filled with surprise and he actually took a step back, "You know who I am?" he sounded as if he weren't sure whether to be happy about this news or not.

Vigorously nodding her head Darcy had to consciously constrain herself to keep from following him, "Steve talks about you all the time," her hand slapped over her mouth, "Cheese on a pickle," she swore as creatively as she knew how, "My soulmate is Bucky Barnes."

Her wide eyes met his and he took another step back, "I…" he trailed off and glanced at the busy street feet away from them, "This was a bad idea, I'm sorry I have to—"

"Don't go!" she exclaimed, darting forward and catching his left arm with her hands, "Don't leave, please don't leave," she squeezed his arm, despite knowing now that it was actually made of metal, "I could really use somebody in my life who I know won't leave."

It slipped out. Instantly regretting her words, her eyes slammed shut and she struggled to force back the memories of a dad who left her and her mother; a mother who dropped her off to be babysat by her grandmother and never came back, her grandparents who went to the store for milk and were hit by a texting teen. Friends, family; everyone left, and she'd accepted that. Even now, she was comfortable and growing increasingly attached each of the Avengers every day, but she was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop; waiting for the moment when they would decide they didn't need her anymore, or didn't want her any more, and would kick her out, send her packing.

Finding her soulmate and having them be the one person who would never leave her, would never even want to…that was a dream she'd had since she was seven years old and her dad had disappeared.

A callused hand brushed over her jaw and prompted her eyes to open. She looked up and found Bucky watching her with a curious and tender expression. He seemed to contemplate her for a few moments before he glanced at the street and back down at her with a slow sigh, "I'm not going to leave you Doll," he murmured, his eyes dropping to her lips for a quick second before raising to meet hers once more. His thumb brushed gently over her jaw, "Not sure I could even if I were stupid enough to want to now," his left hand turned over and caught her wrist with his words. He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive underside of her wrist.

"So you'll stay?" she clarified (she had weak moments, she was human, don't judge).

He paused a moment longer before nodding, "You bein' my girl doesn't change much about my plan anyway," he decided.

Darcy arched an eyebrow at him, "Your girl huh?" she repeated.

His response was to send her a smirk that she was sure would have brought all the girls running back in the day (at least it would if he had a little less of a bear masquerading as a beard on his face) "My girl," he reaffirmed, "You one of those feminist independent woman types Doll?" he teased (and okay, yeah, part of her was surprised the guy was even capable of smiling and joking, but she wasn't going to delve into that particular dark past at the moment if she didn't have to).

"Yes," she retorted primly, her chin lifting as she released his arm, "But I'm also the kind who…" she trailed off, unsure of how to articulate what exactly it was that she likes. She shook her head, so what if she liked her men a little possessive (only a little mind you, there was a huge difference between possessive and protective, and possessive and controlling. She's done both, loves the first, hated the second) he didn't need to know that. His words already showed the world how possessive he would be of her with their size and darkness; he was literally meant to be her other half in every way, "If I'm your girl," she slightly switched gears, "Then you have to be my guy."

He smirked a little at her, his expression wistful, "Not like there's a lot of girls linin' up for a chance to be with a guy like me, Pretty Girl," he told her.

She studied him for a second before shrugging, "Their loss, my gain," she decided. Turning she walked the few steps back to her back of hard-to-find stuffing and bent over to pick it up, "Now, you were saying something about a plan?"

Bucky dragged his eyes from where they'd locked on her behind as she'd bent over and offered her a small sheepish grin as an apology for being caught looking. She shrugged it off, it wasn't often men paid more attention to her behind than her rack, "I…" he started and trailed off, seeming at a loss for words, suddenly serious and haunted like he'd been when he'd tugged her into this alley in the first place, "I want…" Darcy could see that even saying those two words, words most people had no problem with, was an enlightening and novel experience for Bucky and it made her want to punch someone. And then taser them until they could do nothing but twitch and drool.

"I want to come in," Bucky interrupted her vengeful thoughts, "I want to…see Steve again…to tell him that I…remember. I remember it all," he turned his haunted eyes on her, "I remember everything…" he trailed off and shook his head as his face seemed to pale, "The people I've killed Darcy," he shook his head some more, his eyes widening with panic and regret, "I've killed so many."

Darcy took a small step forward but when he stumbled back a step she lurched forward to pull him into a tight hug, "Not your fault Barnes," she stated firmly, "All of that was on HYDRA, it wasn't your fault," she kept on repeating herself until she felt Bucky's arms cautiously wrap around her shoulders.

"I'm not a good man Darcy," he choked out, almost as if he'd tried to keep the words back but they'd forced their way out anyway.

Hiding her face in his admittedly smelly shirt, she disagreed, "You're good enough for me," she mumbled into his chest, "You don't need to be good enough for anyone else if you don't want to be."

There was a long silence before she felt Bucky pull her tighter to him, "And if I want to be?" he questioned, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear.

She pulled back enough to look up at him, "Then you do good," she answered, "That's all you can do, is just do good."

Bucky studied her for a moment, his panic slowly retreating, and his regret slightly dimming, "Do you think…" he hesitated and Darcy squeezed him a little tighter, suddenly aware of the bag currently still hanging from her wrist and knocking against his back, "Do you think Steve would…?" he left it at that, as if she knew what he meant.

"Steve would…" she repeated slowly, "Like to see you? Welcome you back with open arms and bucket loads of tears? Want you on his team?" she smiled up at him, "Because as the unofficial Avengers co-therapist, I share the title with Sam," she nudged him a little with a wink, "you know, the guy with the metal wings? I can tell you with complete certainty that the answer to all three of those questions is yes. Unquestionably, and irrevocably yes."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she slowly released him to grab it, "Also, if you think I'm letting my soulmate spend the rest of Thanksgiving out on the streets of New York City with nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans then you are completely out of your mind mister," she poked him in the chest as she pressed the answer button, "Go for me," she answered.

"I'm outside the building," Happy replied in turn, "You've got about thirty seconds before the people in the cars behind me start to riot."

Darcy grinned and tucked the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she grabbed Bucky's metal hand in hers, "On our way," she told him before disconnecting the call, "Come on," she grabbed the phone with her bag laden hand and tugged Bucky behind her towards the sound of angrily honked horns.

Finding the black SUV Happy was driving was easy and seconds later she and Bucky were climbing into the back seat. Happy took off the second the back door was shut, grumbling to himself about impatient New Yorkers. It took him a few yards to realize that Darcy wasn't alone in the back seat, "New friend?" he asked, eyeing Bucky suspiciously in the mirror.

"Soulmate," she returned, "Happy, this is Bucky Barnes," she squeezed Bucky's hand in hers, "Bucky this is Happy Hogan, he's Tony Stark's driver."

Bucky nodded solemnly, giving her the impression that he'd somehow already known this. His grip on her hand was tight almost as if he were struggling to decide whether or not to let go and throw himself out of the vehicle or to hold on tight and keep her close.

"Barnes?" Happy repeated, his voice a little higher than normal, "The Bucky Barnes? Steve's buddy?"

Looking at Bucky when his head had come up at the mention of Steve she allowed him to reply, "You know Steve?" his voice was tense, and cautious.

Happy sent him a wide grin, "Yeah, Steve's great!" he declared, "Man, it's really you! Steve's going to be so ecstatic!" he slapped the steering wheel with glee, "You were always my favorite Commando you know?"

Bucky shot her an incredulous look, as if he were surprised he could be considered anyone's favorite anything. Steve still looked like that sometimes, when he discovered that people actually completed their PhD's with whole dissertations and books written about him and his teammates, or when he realized that growing up Darcy had had posters of his team and had doodled Darcy Lewis and Bucky Barnes 4ever in her notebooks at school (at least now she could pretend/claim that it was her bond to her soulmate that made her do it).

The rest of drive was passed listening to Happy reminisce about his childhood running around the neighborhood with his friends playing Commandos and how he was always cast as Dernier because his mom spoke French and had taught him the language growing up. Not once during the whole ride did Bucky let go of her hand, and not once did she try to make him. She noticed, however, that the closer they got to Avengers Tower, the tenser Bucky became until she could practically see the Winter Soldier mask falling into place.

Eventually Happy took the turn that lead them to the private underground parking lot for the Avengers and slid carefully into his parking slot, "Well here we are," he announced, turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt. He turned in his seat to say something, but his mouth snapped shut once he caught sight of Bucky's pale face, "Hey, man, you okay? You're not looking so great."

Darcy glanced over at Bucky in the florescent light that snuck into the car through the windows, "Just…can you just go on ahead?" she requested, "And maybe…don't tell anyone he's here yet?" Both Bucky and Happy turned to look at her at her request, but Bucky said nothing.

Happy got a serious and determined look on his face and nodded at her, "Sure thing," he agreed, "Why don't you let me take the stuffing to the Communal kitchen? I'm sure someone else there will be willing to throw it together for you."

"No thanks," she shook her head, "I'll just cook it up in my apartment," she offered him a thankful smile, "Thanks for the offer though."

Bobbing his head once at her Happy sent them both a wide smile, "Nice to finally have you home Sargent," he commented before exiting the SUV, leaving them to sit in silence.

They watched him enter the private elevator and once he was safely out of site Darcy turned to face her soulmate, "What's going on in that brain of yours?" she asked as she tapped his temple.

It took a few minutes but eventually Bucky pulled his eyes away from the elevator to look down at her, "What if he finds out what I've done?" he murmured barely loud enough for her to hear him, "I won't be able to stay here without admitting to it all; how is he going to react?"

Sensing somehow that Bucky needed a little more comfort than mere words could provide on their own Darcy pulled one foot under her and scooted closer to his side until her knee was pressed against his hip, "To be honest," she started, switching hands and holding his right hand with her right so she could lightly comb her freed fingers through his tangled long hair, "There is a strong possibility that Steve knows more about what you did and what happened to you than you do," she told him truthfully, sliding a clump of hair behind his ear.

He turned to look at her with hopeful suspicion but he couldn't seem to find any words to voice his thoughts. She waited for a minute to allow him the opportunity to speak (take that Barton! She knew how to be a good listener when she needed to be!)before speaking herself, "Steve has shared his horror and the pain he's felt for what you've had to do in the past," she absently traced her finger around the shell of his ear and smiled a little when he seemed to relax at the unusually casual touch, despite his still worried expression, "but that horror and pain has always been on your behalf," she lightly grabbed the back of his neck reassuringly, "I've never seen Steve so angry as he was when he found out what _HYDRA made you do_ ," she couldn't stress those last words enough, "He knows you, knows that isn't the man you were raised to be, not the man you ever _wanted_ to be."

Bucky's eyes had turned to stare at the wall in front of them outside the windshield, but he looked back at her slowly at that, "What if that is who I am now?" he asked with an almost defiant tone of voice.

"Are you my soulmate?" she switched gears a little, at his perplexed look she repeated, "Are you my soulmate?" when he glanced down at her wrist and then back at her and nodded she nodded back, "Do I give you the impression that I have a lot of violent inclinations?"

He searched her face with some confusion clouding his eyes, "Not really," he decided.

She arched an eyebrow at her, "Not really?" she echoed with an amused smirk.

His lips twitched with a shadow of a smile, "Well you did threaten to tase me in the face," he reminded her.

"Fair enough," she allowed, "But blood and violence isn't really my thing," she went back to her original point, "Despite my ninja training with Natasha Sensei," she gave him a small smile, "And the fact that you are _my_ soulmate," she squeezed his hand, "means that you are the other half of my soul," she released his hand to press her hand to his heart, "So that, combined with the memories Steve has of the man you once were tells me all I need to know about who you are now. Maybe you have a dark side," she conceded, "But that doesn't mean you are dark."

Something in his eyes told her he was struggling to believe her, that he wanted to believe her, so at least she knew that some of her words (which she was completely making up completely on the spot btw)were sinking in. His eyes softened as he studied her and his hand slowly lifted to press her hand closer to his chest, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Unconsciously licking her lips she shrugged one shoulder, "You survived a hell I can't even begin to imagine," she answered softly, "You were taken against your will, forced to become a weapon, but despite everything you've been through, everything you've been forced to do, you still want to be better. You want to deserve the good, you want to _be_ good."

"Maybe you are my good," he whispered, his eyes slipping between her eyes and her lips, "Maybe…" he trailed off and suddenly Darcy became surprisingly aware of how close their heads were. His eyes locked on her lips once more before his blue eyes connected with hers full of questions.

She answered them all when she closed the distance between them and sealed their lips together. It was slow and tentative at first, but as she pulled back a little, her tongue darting out for a quick taste of his bottom lip, Bucky gave a small longing hum before his hands lurched up to cradle her head and pull her back to him. This kiss was deep and it scattered every last thought Darcy had managed to pull together. His lips parted from hers long enough for him to tilt his head and she gasped for air in that split second.

He prodded at her lips with his tongue and she let him in with a small sigh of contentment, it had been so long since she'd been kissed like this, like she was the only person in the world, like she was someone worth worshiping and loving thoroughly. Actually, she didn't think she'd ever been kissed like this. She allowed his tongue to subdue hers and she relaxed into his body, her hand sliding down his arm to grasp his elbow while her other hand tugged his head impossibly closer with her grip in his hair. His beard tickled against her skin, but it comforted her more than put her off. She absently pulled her hand from his hair to scratch lightly at the beard on his jaw and smiled internally at the pleasured gasp he gave in response.

He kissed her for several minutes longer, seeming to be memorizing every gasp and sigh that escaped her and every action that pulled them from her. Eventually air became enough of a need that she had to reluctantly pull back. He allowed her to back a few centimeters but his grip on her head wouldn't let her move back any further than that. Slowly she peeled her eyes open and found him watching her with a warm tender something in his gaze.

"Mine," he breathed softly, his eyes asking the question that was isn't in his voice.

She'd never thought herself to be the type of girl who'd ever like being claimed like that, but the way he said it, full of so much adoration and hope, and the way his thumbs brushed over her jaw and cheeks as he held her, as if she were the most precious thing he'd ever seen, as if he wanted nothing but to love and cherish her for the rest of forever, was enough to make her agree, "Yours," she slid her hand down his arm from his elbow to wrap around his wrist and squeezed it affectionately.

He pulled back a little and turned his wrist over so he could collect her hand in his (how had she never realized how small her hands were before this moment?)and pull it towards his chest. He turned her hand over until her palm was resting against his slightly faster than normal heartbeat and looked up from his actions to meet her eyes, "Yours," he told her.

The smile that rose to her lips was immediate, "Mine," she accepted. She swept in then and claimed another slow, lingering kiss before pulling back with a long inhale, "What do you say we go inside?" she questioned, "It's getting a little cold out here."

Bucky studied her for a moment longer before nodding. He didn't say anything else as he climbed out of the car and waited for her to do the same. She took his free hand in her own as she guided him to the elevator. Once inside she smiled at him once before speaking, "My floor please J," she requested.

"Of course Miss Darcy," JARVIS replied, startling Bucky bad enough that he visibly jumped, "And might I be the first to welcome you home Sargent Barnes?"

Darcy smiled up at Bucky and he frowned with some confusion, "Uh…thank you," he sounded uncertain.

"That was JARVIS," she explained, "He's Tony's AI, arguably his brain and his conscience," she smirked at the where she knew the elevator camera was located, "He pretty much runs everything in the Tower. If you ever need anything, just ask, JARVIS will hook you up."

He nodded, though he didn't really seem to understand, "You have a floor?" he wondered.

"Kind of," she shrugged, "I moved to New York when Jane and Thor did and initially I was supposed to stay with them on their floor, but Thor isn't just the god of Thunder for his proclivity towards storms if you know what I mean," he clearly didn't but she didn't bother to elaborate, "Anyway, Steve's floor had an empty apartment so Tony moved me into that one," she rocked on her heels, "I'll actually be honest and admit that I think my apartment was supposed to be yours whenever Steve managed to convince you to come in."

Bucky was silent as he mulled this information over before shrugging and pulling her closer to his side, "I guess we'll just have to share," he replied with a tone of confidence that wasn't as convincing as he probably meant it to be.

"There are four rooms in the apartment," she offered, "One of them is mine, but you can have the others if you want," she gave him a small smile that she hoped conveyed her openness to him sharing the apartment with her.

He glanced down at her and seemed to contemplate her expression for a moment before he smirked and turned and backed her up until she was pressed against the wall of the elevator, "And what if I wanted the room you are in," he inquired seriously, his eyes twinkling with a playful glint she recognized from pictures of him from before the War.

She laughed a little, "Then I guess we might have to share," she replied with equally fake seriousness.

A small laugh reached her ears and she couldn't resist reaching up with her hand to pull him down for a quick kiss, "You're not shy at all are you Pretty Girl," he commented as she pulled back.

"Not typically a word people would use to describe me, no," Darcy agreed, moving around him as the elevator doors slid open, "Come on Handsome," she lead him out of the elevator and to the left where the double doors to her apartment were located, "Lets see what we can do about getting you cleaned up before Steverino gets back," she told him over her shoulder as she placed her palm in the scanner just next to the door.

"Steverin—what?" Bucky repeated, clearly baffled by more than one part of what she'd just said.

She smirked at him and lead him into the apartment, kicking off her shoes as she entered, "It's a thing," she waved off the nickname as she crossed the apartment floor to set the stuffing boxes down on the breakfast bar in the kitchen area of the open space living room and kitchen.

Bucky followed her, his eyes taking in the apartment, likely looking for any entrances and exits, corners and nooks and crannies that offered the best vantage points, "Is…" he frowned as he noticed the small collection of drawings framed and hanging on one of the walls, "Is that?" he tilted his head and approached the black and white drawings, "Steve drew these," he stated with certainty, his voice somewhat awed, "Where did you get this?" he asked as he turned away from the drawing of a forest and the Commandos huddled around a campfire laughing with each other.

"Dum Dum's daughter was my next door neighbor growing up," she started, "Madeline was close with my grandparents and I would often stay at her place when my grandparents had to go somewhere. When Dum Dum passed away she inherited the drawings. They hung in her sewing room for years," she smiled sadly as she approached them, "After my grandparents were killed in a car accident, she took me in and raised me, showed me what a real family was supposed to be like," she offered him a shrug, "Parents abandoned me and my grandparents were slightly abusive," she explained briefly, "When I moved here and let her know I was actually settling down somewhere she sent them to me as a house warming gift."

A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, "Does Steve know you have these?" he asked, his lips near her ear.

Darcy nodded, relaxing into his hug, "I felt kind of guilty keeping them while he lived literally across the hall from me, so I offered to give them back, but he told me to keep them, so I did," she shrugged and pulled back to look up at him.

He glanced down at her questioningly. She studied him for a moment, her lips pursing to the side thoughtfully, "Come on," she suddenly pulled away from him, and after pausing for a second to take off her coat and toss it over the back of the couch she lead him down the hall and into a nondescript room, "So, confession," she told him, "Pepper and I have been preparing for the day that you finally came in from the cold, so to speak, and we wanted to make sure you had everything you'd need to get by for a few days until we could officially take you out for the necessities."

Bucky's eyebrows pulled together, "Huh?" he articulated his confusion.

"You're cute," she poked him affectionately, "I mean, we actually have some clothes in here for you," she opened a door and indicated a walk in closet that was mostly empty save a few hanging shirts and a couple pairs of pants and shoes, "And that bathroom is stocked with manly smells and shaving stuff," she indicated the bathroom through a door a few feet away.

He studied both rooms and her for a second before his eyebrow lifted with amusement, "You're trying to tell me I stink," he clarified with a knowing nod.

Her eyes narrowed, "I wasn't going to say it in so many words," she denied, "I'm just saying—"

"That I need a shower and a change of clothes," he finished for her.

Darcy nodded slowly, "And while you do that I'll go get started on prepping the stuffing stuff," she waved absently at the kitchen area somewhere behind her.

"Alright," he agreed, "Uh, sounds good," she could see he was clearly a little overwhelmed but she decided maybe this was one of those times when discretion was the better act of valor and just offered him a small smile before turning and leaving.

-.-.-.-

 **A/N: So there it is, chapter one! The next two chapters should be up soon! Let me know what you thought and leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Bucky Takes It In

**A/N: Yay, here's chapter two! There wasn't much response for this story here on Fanficiton but AO3 seemed pretty welcoming so hopefully the love will pick up here soon! Hope you all had a great holiday! Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 2: Bucky Takes It In**

 **-.-.-.-**

Bucky watched Darcy go and felt the urge to rush after her and keep her close, fearing irrationally for a moment that maybe this was all a dream and the second he let her out of his sight she'd be gone; this whole place would be gone and he'd wake up alone, cold, and still nothing but another weapon for HYDRA to wield. Instead of following those urges though, he steeled himself with a deep breath and turned towards the closet. He entered it carefully, making sure to leave his exit open and studied the clothing that hung inside.

He couldn't decide which shirt to choose (too many choices; orders! he needed—no, he was Bucky Barnes, not the Asset, he didn't take orders from anyone anymore)so he just grabbed the first one he could reach, a dark grey and red stripped sweater. Turning he grabbed a pair of black pants and pulled open one of the three drawers installed in the wall to find a pair of black socks and a pair of red boxers.

Exiting the closet, still a little upset with his momentary slip back into the Asset's mindset, he moved into the bathroom and froze. There was a bathtub _and_ a shower. Which one was he supposed to use? His eyes flipped back and forth between the two separate units as his mind tried to piece memories together to form some sort of context for what the correct choice to make was. He remembered lukewarm baths as a kid, and slightly warmer than ice water showers in the Army, baths in frozen creeks and—his mind flinched back as he remembered the harsh spray of cold water from a HYDRA agent held hose. (Yeah, that.)

He carefully set his clothes down on the high counter, wondering absently why there were two sinks, and slowly began to strip as he contemplated the issue he was faced with. Ultimately deciding on the shower stall he pulled open the tall glass door and stepped inside. There he stood blankly staring at the handles in front of him, trying to figure out what came next (waiting for orders, he was supposed to-)He cut his thought process off and turned the biggest knob until the water was on.

He flinched at the sting of the cold spray, but forced himself to ignore it. He grabbed a bar of soap off a shelf and quickly soaped up his body and hair as best he could. Rinsing it off, he stared at the other dozens of bottles lining the shelves in the shower and briefly contemplated what they were for as he switched off the water. Stepping out of the shower he looked around for a towel, (should have thought of that before, _would_ have thought of that before on his own if HYDRA hadn't-) locating one he toweled his body off with a shiver at the cold air.

Just as he finished pulling on his boxers he heard Darcy approaching, "Bucky?" her voice called followed by a squeak. Turning around he looked through the open door and found Darcy gaping at him with increasingly red cheeks, "Sorry!" she squeaked again, "I didn't know you weren't—why aren't you…why didn't?" she couldn't seem to find the right words, and he certainly didn't know how to help her.

It took him a few seconds to realize that most people probably close the door to the bathroom when they shower. His face fell, (stupid, stupid, stupid)as he realized his simple but telling mistake, "Sorry," he apologized belatedly, with another shiver, "I…forgot that I was supposed to…" he indicated the door (why can you remember even the simplest things?)and shifted his weight.

But Darcy wasn't paying attention to the door anymore, she was frowning at him, "Why are you shivering?" she asked, stepping closer to him. Part of him welcomed the lack of distance between them, anytime he could be near her was time to be celebrated if you asked him. Her hand reached up and touched his hair only to recoil almost instantly; "Geeze Bucky, you're freezing!" she seemed bothered by this.

He didn't understand, "The water was cold," he told her.

"The water was—" she cut herself off, "JARVIS," she spoke to the voice in the ceiling, "What was Sargent Barnes' shower temperature?"

"Approximately sixty three degrees," the voice answered promptly.

Darcy stared at him, "And did you even wash your hair?" she asked, her hand reaching up to try and touch it again.

He frowned, "I used the soap," he indicated the bar of soap still in the shower. Was that wrong? What else was he supposed to have used?

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second before speaking to him again, "If I ever see another HYDRA agent again, I swear on Mew Mew's power that I will—"

"Again?" he interrupted, panic squeezing his heart, "When have you met HYDRA before?"

She seemed to realize that she'd surprised him and her eyes widened, "Oh," she shook her head, "My previous boyfriend turned out to be a HDYRA drone," she waved her hand as if it were unimportant, but he could tell that the betrayal was still strong. Her eyes wouldn't meet his and he felt anger rising in his chest at the thought that someone had hurt her, someone she'd trusted (it _wasn't_ just because she'd dated someone else, he wasn't that naïve or petty).

"Tell me he has been taken care of," he ordered, his voice low and demanding.

A nod was his answer, followed by a mischievous grin that made him relax a little, "I tased him," she told him proudly, "In the face. And when Thor came home and found out what happened he threw Ian out the window before tying him up and handing him over to the police."

"Good," he stated, glad that she'd been able to protect herself.

Darcy laughed a little, "But that wasn't the point of this conversation," she shook her head at him as if he were at fault for the digression, "The point is," she stepped closer to the shower and pointed, "That black bottle there is shampoo, it is for your hair," she took on a tone that made her sound like a teacher he'd had once when he was little; the memory made him smile faintly, "The bottle next to it is the conditioner, it is also for your hair," she ignored his amusement, "It makes your hair soft and tangle free," she stepped away from the shower door, "Now you are going to get back in the shower and use those two things and then take a nice long, _warm_ soak, alright?" she ordered (but it wasn't the bad kind of order, it was actually kind of…cute).

He slowly nodded, not at all sure about what she meant by warm soak, but willing to do as he was instructed, "Alright," he agreed.

"J," she spoke to the room again, "Make sure Sargent Barnes' shower temperature is at the optimum range to provide for a relaxing shower will you?"

"Of course Miss Darcy," JARVIS accepted his instructions, "I was remiss for not having done so before."

Darcy's gaze softened as she stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest (her hand was so _warm_ it gave him chills), "And if he ever tries to punish himself with a cold shower please let me know," she added to her instructions for the AI.

"Of course," the voice sounded somewhat approving.

"Enjoy your shower Hot Stuff," Darcy told him, lifting on her toes to press a slow kiss to his lips (and _how_ he wanted to scoop her up and make her his right there and then!) he returned the kiss with matching warmth and reined in the discouraging grumble when she pulled away. He watched her leave and smiled a little when she pointedly pulled the door shut behind her with a wink.

The water suddenly switched on in the shower stall and small billows of steam began to collect in the space as he stared in surprise. It took him a second longer to step out of his boxers and back into the spray, but once he did he couldn't help the gasp of pleasure at the comfortably warm temperature of the water. He stood under the spray for a moment just enjoying himself as ordered (suggested, as suggested, not ordered) before reaching for the shampoo bottle Darcy had indicated.

It smelled good, he decided as he caught a whiff of the scent coming out of the bottle, like sandalwood and…something else he couldn't identify right away, but it was something familiar. He efficiently shampooed and conditioned his hair and then stood back in the water to just take it in. So this was a warm soak? He'd never felt so warm during the winter in his _life_.

Still unable to soak for very long, he reluctantly turned the water off five minutes later and stepped out of the shower. He toweled himself dry and easily stepped into his clothes, surprised at how well they fit him. He tugged open the door then and felt a wave of slightly cooler air flow into the room.

He was only a little surprised (and admittedly a lot relieved) to find Darcy sitting on the bed in the room, staring down at her phone. She looked up when she felt his eyes on her and he watched her offer him a wide grin, "Warm showers are awesome right?" she declared, not really seeming to need his approval or agreement but he gave it anyway.

"It was very enjoyable," he agreed.

Her smile widened and she rose from the bed to walk over to him, "I like the shirt too," she patted his chest as she brushed by him and into the bathroom.

"Always appreciate compliments from beautiful dames," he flirted (did he even still remember how? He remembered he used to be good at it, but…) the laugh he earned in return told him she at least appreciated his attempt.

"Do you remember how to shave Handsome?" she questioned from where she was rummaging in a drawer for something.

He leant casually against the counter, "You don't like my beard?" he joked, truthfully he didn't like it much either, but it was good for hiding his face in a crowd.

She sent him a look that made him chuckle before she found what she was looking for, "Do you want it all gone or mostly?" she asked.

Hesitating as he contemplated the odd tools she'd fished out of the drawer he spoke carefully, "All?" it was definitely more of a question than an answer and she gave him a knowing look.

"Alright," she nodded, moving the odd tools to the side and pulling out a few items that were much more familiar, "They have electric razors these days," she informed him indicating the odd shaped tool on the counter, "But I kind of figured you'd prefer it the old fashioned way," she gestured to the straight razor and the cream and aftershave, "Steve definitely does," she added.

He felt a small amused smile spread his lips, "He's probably just glad he has to shave at all," he chuckled a little, "Punk used to be able to go weeks without shaving," he reached for the brush and cream and fiddled with them for a moment before letting muscle memory take over.

Darcy chuckled at his memory and set to talking as he shaved, lifting herself up onto the counter and reclining against the mirror as she told him little bits and pieces about herself and the other occupants of the Tower. Once he was finished shaving he wiped off his face and reached for the aftershave. He flipped open the lid and nearly dropped the bottle when his senses were assaulted with the surprisingly familiar scent. He stared at the bottle in surprise before lifting his eyes to see Darcy watching him carefully.

"Is it alright?" she inquired, "Steve was glad for the familiarity, but I wasn't sure if you'd—"

He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers, unable to stop himself from the action, "Thank you Darcy," he murmured as he pulled back. He applied the aftershave and glanced at her for her response.

She grinned at him, one hand lifting to trail over his cheek, "Nice," she complimented, "Much better than the mountain man look," she leant forward and stole another quick kiss before reaching for his metal hand and pulling him until he was forced to move between her legs. He looked down where her hand was wrapped around his metal hand and couldn't help but wonder at the ease she seemed to accept this part of him. She left him to his thoughts as she reached over the counter and grabbed a comb, "Now to comb out your hair before it dries the rest of the way in knots," she muttered as she brought the comb to his hair.

He froze in surprise as he felt her begin to slowly slide the comb through his hair, parting it to the side he'd always parted it. A few strokes of the comb later, he was relaxing into her as she instructed him to turn so she could continue combing his hair. Once she was finished she turned him back to face her and brushed some hair back from his face with her fingers, "Hey," she greeted with a soft smile.

"Hey," he smiled back, placing his hands on either side of her to lean in and offer her another kiss. She accepted without any hesitation and he couldn't help the low hum of contentment that slipped through when her hands slid up his chest and around his neck. Pulling away a few minutes later he pressed his forehead to hers and simply breathed her in. Meeting his soulmate hadn't been part of his plans for the day, and it certainly hadn't been planned that she was so close to Steve (he remembered being unwilling to stay with a woman if she'd been unable to hold a comfortable conversation with little Steve, he was glad Darcy was already friends with his friend), but despite all that, he wouldn't change anything about this day. This ease and comfort that stretched between them already was a godsend.

"Do you have any idea how distracting you are Barnes?" Darcy murmured, her eyes slowly opening to peer into his, close as they were.

He smiled at her, "I have an inkling," he returned, leaning closer until their lips were millimeters apart and pulling back as she attempted to close the distance. He teased her for a few seconds before she growled and tugged on his hair to hold him still so she could kiss him mid laugh.

She pulled away a few minutes later with a sigh and a small smile, "Come on," she scooted forward and pushed him back a little so she could get down, "Steve's going to be on TV any minute," she took his metal hand and guided him out of the bathroom ad bedroom and into the living area, "J, Steve's interview if you will."

The large television mounted on the wall came to life revealing two news reporters visiting with one another. She pulled him around the couch and down until he was sitting next to her on the couch. She shifted eagerly as the hosts announced Steve and Tony Stark as their guests for the day citing their connection to the continued freedom of the country. Stark appeared first, all smiles and showmanship followed seconds later by a familiar face.

Bucky watched interestedly as Steve followed Stark across the set to where the two hosts were waiting and clapping, "That's his showgirl face," he spoke his thoughts to the woman next to him, "He'd put it on when he was on the road with the USO girls, and whenever the news people were around beggin' for interviews," he huffed a small laugh, "His speech always turned real nice whenever he had his showgirl face on too," he told her, "He didn't talk like some skinny kid from Brooklyn, but some proper Midwestern man. He hated it."

Darcy sighed and rested her head on his left shoulder, lacing her fingers with is metal ones, "I know he hates it," she acknowledged, "But he is very good saying what needs to be said and not making a scene. Stark is an expert with the media, but he's well known for making a scene. I typically can't send Stark anywhere without having one of the other Avengers there to cover for him if he starts to go off script, which he does. With annoying frequency. He and Steve bicker a lot when they're at home, but they are incredibly close. When you put them both in front of a camera," Darcy kissed her hands at the screen, "It's magic. Everything gets said that needs to be said, important points are made, the Avengers win points with the public and Captain America and Iron Man look like capable men who run a team full of superheroes."

Bucky ignored the interview as he glanced down at Darcy, "You sound like you know a lot about this stuff," he commented.

"That's because it's my job," she tilted her head and propped her chin on his shoulder, "When I first moved into the Tower I was pretty much just a gofer for Jane, one of the scientists," she explained quickly, "I soon took Tony and Bruce under my Science! umbrella, making sure they were fed, watered, walked and napped on time every day. I was already good at making sure Clint behaved himself, and Natasha respected me for that, and after I requested self-defense lessons from her we grew even closer. Steve was a little tougher to crack, but after I brought up my connection to Dum Dum and started to make him food he started to open up. Then like I said, Sam and I are co-therapists for the Avengers, and Rhodey thinks I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread because of how well Tony listens to me. Pepper figured all this out and decided to make me the official Avenger PR expert and wrangler."

While she'd been speaking, Bucky had watched her fiddle with his fingers and couldn't help but ask, "It doesn't bother you?"

"What?" her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "The Avengers? Because I have to say, they aren't actually as much of a handful as you might think—"

"No," Bucky shook his head, "My arm," he shifted some plates in the metal arm to make a point.

Darcy frowned at him, "No," she shook her head, "Why would it?" and he really didn't have an answer to that, so he just shook his head quietly and refocused on the television.

"And would you say there were a lot of differences between the way we celebrate Thanksgiving today and the Thanksgiving you grew up with?" the woman host was asking.

Steve glanced at Stark and seemed to hesitate, "Well, when I was a kid…" he paused, "When I was a kid we didn't have much in the way of money," he started, "I didn't even know what a Thanksgiving dinner really was until I was thirteen."

"And what changed when you were thirteen?" the man inquired curiously.

Steve's expression became real for a moment as he glanced down at his lap in remembrance, "I asked my best friend Bucky Barnes what they needed a turkey for," he lifted his eyes and smiled at the hosts, "He was so scandalized he told his mother and she came over that night and all but demanded that my mother and I join their family for Thanksgiving. I remember my ma was blushin' real hard at the invitation, she had to struggle a lot to make ends meet you see, what with me being so sick all the time and her being a single mother and all."

Bucky smiled a little to himself as he remembered the story, Steve had looked so panicked when he realized that he'd unintentionally let slip the fact that he'd never had a turkey for Thanksgiving and that that wasn't typical.

"My ma spent the next day baking up a storm, cooking every kind of pie you could think of," he grinned mischievously, "She was a great baker," he added.

"Don't know how many times that punk got the both of us in trouble for stealin' somethin' his ma had made," Bucky grumbled to Darcy, making her giggle.

The woman on screen seemed enchanted with the story, "And what would you say was your favorite pie Steve?" she inquired.

Steve didn't even bother trying to hide his smirk, "Apple pie of course ma'am," he answered promptly.

Bucky outright laughed at that, "That is a bold face _lie!_ " he crowed. He chuckled and felt more laughter bubbling up as he pictured the expression Steve would get every time his mother would serve him some of her favorite apple pie. The memory brought on another round of laughter that had him laughing harder than he could remember having laughed in decades.

"He _hates_ apple pie," he choked out a moment later when he finally noticed Darcy's humorous and incredulous expression, "Don't know how he managed to hide it from his ma for so many years," he shook his head as he calmed down a little, "It became an inside joke between us whenever someone would ask that question. He'd answer, honest as anythin' that it was apple pie, when we both knew he hated the stuff and really preferred cherry."

Darcy laughed a little then, "Something tells me he was hoping you might remember that," she commented once he'd finally pulled himself together, "Steve doesn't typically wear Stark's I'm-about-to-make-trouble-expression when he's doing an interview."

Meanwhile onscreen Steve began some plea for the American people to remember how good they have it. Bucky listened halfheartedly and found himself watching Stark and his barely contained amused annoyance, "Stark can see right through him," he decides.

"Most of the time," Darcy agreed, "It's part of the reason why they argue so much. Steve will typically say what he thinks he's _supposed_ to say, Tony will point that out and call him on it, they'll fight, Tony will argue him around until Steve is arguing for the point he'd started against and once he even realizes what's happened Tony's already declared victory and gone his separate way."

"Sounds like a couple of two year olds," Bucky commented.

Darcy snorted, "Dude, you have no idea," she grinned up at him as Stark and Steve were being escorted off the set and kissed his jaw before rising to her feet, "I've got to throw the stuffing together if you want to help," she suggested, "Steve should be back in about half an hour, I was thinking you might like to see him before you see everyone else?"

Her face was turned away from him in a move he sensed was deliberate, and as he felt himself stiffen up at her suggestion and the reminder of what he'd initially wanted to come here for he understood why. He forced himself to relax, and trust her and all the comments she'd made about how Steve was likely to react to seeing him again, "Darcy," he called, when she only acknowledged him with a hum he sighed, "Hey, Pretty Girl, come here," he wrapped an arm around her waist in an instinctive move and tugged her back into his chest, "Hey," his lips pressed against her ear as he spoke, "I _would_ prefer to see Steve alone before everyone else, you're right," he agreed, "And I'm going to be nervous about that until it's over, but you don't need to worry about it alright? I believe you when you say it will be fine."

He felt her slowly relax into his backwards hug and he took the chance to inhale the scent of her hair to try and commit it to memory, he never wanted to forget this smell.

"Sorry," Darcy took a deep breath, "You don't need my…insecurity stuff on top of everything else you have to deal with," her hands flapped around expressively and he released her long enough to catch her hands and pull them back to hug them to her, "I'm just…I _seem_ like I know what I'm doing, but I'm not…that put together I guess. I don't want to make you do anything that will make you feel like you have to leave, and I really don't want to screw up this reunion betwee—"

Bucky frowned and couldn't resist the pull to turn Darcy around, "Hey," he interrupted, "I'm not leaving you," he stated firmly, "No matter what happens from now on, this?" he lifted a hand to wave his finger between them, "is not going to end until or unless you decide it should alright?" he brushed some hair back from her face, "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me Darcy," he squeezed her tighter to him, "And I'm not just going to leave you behind. So I guess you and all your…insecurity stuff," he quoted her, long pause and all, "are stuck with me for as long as you'll have me."

"That might be a long time," she seemed like she was warning him about something that may change his mind.

He ducked his head to give her a quick, chaste kiss, "I'm counting on it Doll," he whispered. He gave her a wink and a kiss on the forehead before taking a deep breath and moving around her, "I have to warn you, I've never done much cooking before," he changed the subject.

"Never a better time to learn than the present," Darcy followed his lead, hip bumping him as she moved to grab one of the boxes in front of him.

-.-.-.—

 **A/N: So that's it for Bucky's PoV of things, let me know what you thought! Reviews are the lifeblood on which I live my tragically boring life, so every single one of them helps! Next up, Steve's PoV and a very important reunion (finally!).**


	3. Chapter 3: Steve Reunites With Bucky

**A/N: Here it is, the last chapter of the story! I will confess, I accidentally forgot to upload this to Fanfiction last night even though I did update it over on AO3. This was in part because this story has received a much better response over there, but mostly it was because it was late at night and my brain was scrambled. Anyway, hope you all enjoy the last chapter!**

 **Chapter 3: Steve Reunites With Bucky**

 **-.-.-.-**

He'd once thought he'd never get used to this new time. Everything was so new, so big and expensive and _loud_ and fast. He'd even thought once that he'd never get used to Tony Stark and all the things that came with him, (the money, the sass, the devil-may-care attitude) but flash forward a few years and here he was living in the same tower, fighting on the same team with him with almost eerie synchronicity, and doing interviews that went surprisingly well between the two of them. When he'd met Darcy Lewis he'd though much the same thing about her as he'd thought about Tony; she was a person of the future, so loud and busy and _blunt_.

But over time she'd crawled under his skin with her smile and jokes, her optimistic view of the world and her willingness to listen. She'd surprised him with stories of Dum Dum and his daughter, and when he'd finally taken her up on her offer of homemade cookies and followed her into her apartment, he'd been surprised when she presented him with several of his own drawings. He'd never thought he'd seem them again, but finding them on display in her apartment and hearing the story of how they'd helped her through so many rough times during her childhood, left him unable to take them with him when he'd returned to his own apartment later that night.

After that he found himself feeling much more comfortable with the sassy woman. Her jokes made him laugh and he never had to ask her to clarify pop culture references he didn't understand, she just did it all her own. In some ways he thought she ran the team as well as he did. He took care of them during missions, gave orders and watched out for them, but when they were home she took over, doing everything he does when in the field, only within the safety of their home.

Of course, besides all these virtues he'd come to recognize in his neighbor, Darcy's cooking certainly helped things along (somehow she managed to cook things that both reminded him of his childhood and showed off what the future had to offer, it boggled his mind). Her apartment nearly always smelt of some food or another, and more often than not that smell found its way into the hallway and all over their floor. (Clint argued that he could smell her food from anywhere in the building when he tried—which may seem unbelievable, but after months of watching the other man show up almost out of nowhere practically every time Darcy was cooking Steve could do nothing but believe.)

So it wasn't much of a surprise to step out of the elevator that afternoon to find his floor smelling like the most incredible stuffing he'd ever smelt. He grinned a little to himself as his stomach growled demandingly; he was definitely hungry enough for Thanksgiving dinner. Interviews tended to take it out of him and often made him feel both hungry and exhausted. He hesitated outside Darcy's door for a moment, contemplating whether to knock and go through their media debrief now, but ultimately he decided to come back after a quick stop at his own apartment.

He was just stepping out of the bathroom when he heard a knock on his apartment door. Already nearly certain it was Darcy, he pulled the door open with a welcoming smile, "Hey Darce," he greeted, "Come on in," he ushered her through the door.

It had taken some getting used to, but Darcy had established early on that her place was his place, and he'd come to reciprocate the feeling. On any normal day Darcy would waltz into his apartment, drop down onto his couch with no finesse chattering all the while about something that he didn't always understand (more because of the randomness of her topic than the relevance to pop cultural references he didn't understand). This time was different though.

While Darcy did greet him with a warm smile as she entered the room, there was some hesitance in her eyes and her posture was showed more defensive self-protection and anxiety. She shifted uneasily a few feet from the door as he shut it behind her, and he couldn't help but frown at her in confusion. (He'd never had to deal with a silent and uncomfortable Darcy before; she seemed to practically live on making things awkward for other people after all).

"Everything alright?" he inquired, moving closer to her, feeling a surge of protectiveness well up in him (and hadn't _that_ surprised him the first time it happened, turns out she'd set up camp in a corner of his heart that had once been reserved only for Bucky's little sister Rebecca).

Darcy nodded her head, her teeth pulling at her lower lip with anxiousness, "Yeah, everything's fine, peachy keen," she tried to reassure him, wincing at the dated phrase as it slipped from her lips.

The reassurance wasn't working though, "You don't seem like everything is fine," he countered, "Did I do something wrong in the interview?" his mind was already turning over every memory he had of the conversation that had been broadcasted all over America; he couldn't find anything wrong with what he'd said or done, but there was a chance he'd managed to slip up somehow; the future was still a little complicated sometimes.

"No!" she exclaimed, her hands lifting to touch his arm, "no, you did fine, great even…" she trailed off and her eyes darted to the ground momentarily before she snorted softly, "Though I have it on good authority that you don't actually like apple pie," she twisted her foot until it was leaning to the side before shifting back to land solidly on the ground.

Steve's eyebrows rose with surprise, before furrowing a little. There was only one person in the world who ever knew how much he hated apple pie; so how could she…His eyes dropped to her left wrist almost instantly. When he'd first seen the familiar cramped and spiky writing that looped around the younger woman's wrist he'd thought it was a coincidence, or that he was imagining how similar the handwriting was to his dead best friend's. But after DC and finding out that Bucky was actually still alive, he'd begun to suspect…he lifted his attention to Darcy's face again.

The more he'd gotten to know the snarky woman over the last few years the more certain he'd become that Darcy Lewis was, in fact, Bucky's soulmate. How else could she have known about the apple pie than hearing about it from the one other person alive who knew his secret? But was it possible?

"I met my soulmate today," Darcy blurted out, apparently unwilling or unable to stand the silence any longer.

He felt his eyes widen and his chest constrict with excited surprise, "You did," he commented as passively as he could manage.

She nodded, shifting around and tugging at her sleeves, "I was out tracking down another couple of boxes of stuffing stuff," she started her tale, "and after I'd found them I was waiting for Happy to come back with the car and he pulled me into the alleyway," at this Steve began to feel a twinge of concern, but Darcy seemed unaware, "I said my words to him, and he replied with his words," she lifted her wrist, "And then I figured out who he was."

Here she paused to pull in a deep breath and Steve braced himself, at this point he was almost completely certain that he knew who she was talking about but he didn't say anything. He waited patiently while she attempted to figure out some way to break the news to him.

"It's Bucky," she stated in a rush, "Your old friend, Bucky Barnes."

At this he felt a rush of air leave him, both out of relief and slight surprise (yes, he'd been pretty sure that was the case, but that didn't mean he couldn't have been wrong). There was no one he'd trust more with a woman he considered his little sister than Bucky; and there was no one he'd trust more with Bucky than Darcy.

"You don't seem surprised," Darcy commented suddenly, interrupting his thoughts, "Why don't you seem surprised? Did you _know_ about this already?" she paused, her thoughts obviously racing, "Did Happy tell you?"

She frowned at him and turned to pace away for a few steps, "I suspected," he interrupted whatever she'd whirled around to say, "When I first saw your words," he gestured to her wrist, "I knew that hand writing, I know it almost as well as I know my own. And the words kind of fit the situation our world is in," he shrugged, "But I wasn't one hundred percent sure, so I didn't say anything," he offered her a small apologetic wince and smile, "I probably should have, but I didn't know how to bring up the fact that my previously dead best friend's handwriting was on your skin," he paused, "Especially with him being a brainwashed HYDRA assassin," he met her eyes and tilted his head, "And _especially_ not after the whole thing with Ian."

Darcy gaped at him for a moment before she gave a great sigh of relief and surged across the open space between them to throw herself into his arms for a hug (yet another Darcy-ism he'd had to get used to but now couldn't live without). He pulled her into his chest and just held her, "We'll find him and bring him home," he murmured a moment later, "I promise."

Abruptly pulling back Darcy stared up at him with a confused expression on her face, "Why would…" and then dawning realization lit her face, "Steve," she hesitated, "I already brought him home."

Everything in him froze at her words. He could do nothing but replay them in his head, the words echoing and repeating like a broken record, "I…You…what?" he stammered, wondering if he'd actually heard those words right.

"Bucky…" she started, "He wanted help, he wanted to come in, to see you," she shrugged, "Finding out I'm his soulmate didn't deter him from that. He just…had even more reasons to come in."

Without conscious thought he brought his hands up to cradle her shoulders, "You mean Bucky's _here_?" he squeezed her shoulders a little, still careful not to hurt her even with all the shock and surging adrenaline, excitement, and nervousness surging through his veins, "He's in the Tower?"

Darcy nodded, "Yeah, he's in my apartment—" Steve didn't wait to hear any more. He turned and nearly sprinted out his door and over to hers. He scanned his palm impatiently and shoved the door open just as Darcy exited his apartment.

But as he went to enter the apartment he stilled, what if Bucky was triggered by seeing him again? HYDRA had given the Asset the mission to kill him once, what if that mission still lingered? What if Bucky was mad at him for not looking harder, or trying to find him after he fell from the train? What if—

"You just going to stand out there all day Punk, or are you going to come in and say hi?"

That voice. That _nickname_.

"Just tryin' not to scare you off, jerk," he returned automatically, his voice thickening with emotions he couldn't even begin to name. Slowly he walked the rest of the way into Darcy's apartment and stood still. There, standing in the middle of the living room was his best friend. There was no more confusion or clouded vicious intent, just clear eyes and hopeful anxiety, "It's really you," he breathed, haltingly crossing the floor until he stood several feet from Bucky.

The other man nodded his head slowly, carefully maintaining eye contact, "It's really me," he agreed. They were silent as they stared at each other for a moment, both absently noting that Darcy had entered the apartment and was now resting against the closed apartment door, "I've killed a lot of people," Bucky broke the silence first, as if he had to get that off his chest before things went any further, "A lot of good, innocent people."

Steve bobbed his head in jerky acknowledgment, "You weren't you. You didn't remember what you believed or what you fought for," he took a small step forward, resisting the nearly overwhelming urge to reach out and make sure this was real, "That's not your fault."

Bucky swallowed and licked his lips, shifting his weight and shuffling back a few centimeters, "I don't know if I deserve your forgiveness," he murmured.

"Got nothin' to forgive Buck," Steve shook his head, "But if you need it, it isn't for you to decide if you deserve it, that's up to me, and believe me, you've got it."

The brunette glanced carefully over to where Darcy stood before looking back at Steve, "I still get flashbacks sometimes," he admits, obviously speaking to both of them this time, "I forget being Bucky, being your friend and only remember HYDRA and what they taught me. I could still be a threat."

Steve nodded, swallowing through the knot in his throat, "We can help you with that," he replied, "All you gotta do is stay and we can get through anything," he shifted forward again, "To the end of the line isn't just until things get hard, it means even when they get hard we're there for each other. You were there for me when no one else was," he blinked back the urge to let a few tears escape, "Let me be there for you."

"You want me to stay?" Bucky checked, his eyes almost instantly seeking out Darcy's form with some look of reassurance before returning to study Steve's face.

That look was enough for him to know that Bucky wouldn't be leaving any time soon, regardless of the answer. He smirked at his friend, "You really think you'd be able to leave your girl behind?" he arched a teasing eyebrow, "A fella might get confused about your intentions."

Bucky rolled his eyes in a motion so familiar that it was what finally brought tears to his eyes, "You ain't touchin' my girl Rodgers," he retorted, "You both know you got your own somewhere," his eyes dropped to Steve's chest where his soulmate's words were written over his heart. Bucky's eyes narrowed, "And somethin' tells me Darcy's more like a sister than a romantic interest," he took a careful step forward.

"She is," Steve agreed simply.

A dark eyebrow lifted with some amusement, "This the part where you tell me to take care of her or you'll kill me and give my body to Mr. Denali's Rottweilers?" his eyes sparked with a familiar twinkle.

Remembering the popular threat from when they were kids, Steve smirked, "Nah," he shook his head, "You hurt _her_ and there's a whole team of superheroes that will be jumpin' in line for a chance at what's left of you after she gets done with you."

Bucky's amusement spread to the rest of his face as he shared a soft and adoring look with Darcy. He looked back at Steve and cautiously asked, "Can I come home?" (like there was any way Steve was going to be able to turn him away).

Steve rolled his eyes (those weren't tears, it was just…okay, so they were tears, but it was his best friend for cryin' out loud) and abruptly moved forward to jerk Bucky into his arms for a tight hug, "You're already home Buck," he stated, his voice thick, "You don't have to ask, you're already there."

 **-.-.-.—**

 **A/N: Yay! This story is finished! So I'm thinking about doing a Christmas sequel where Steve meets his soulmate. Any takers? Full disclosure it would likely be a Steve/Skye|Daisy story (I'm in full Agents Of Shield mode right now and I LOVE Steve/Skye stories) but I am open to another pairing if people are interested.**

 **Let me know what you think and drop a review!**


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